This morning, my husband broke the news to me that Chris Cornell has died. That in itself was upsetting, because Soundgarden was one of those bands I would blast so loud that my ears would ring later when I was a teenager. When I moved to Seattle, I was excited to be living in a place that had produced such epic bands as Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, and Nirvana. The music Chris has made over my lifetime has inspired me, it’s spoken to me deeply, it attached itself to memories of moments in my life. But then I found out that Chris Cornell apparently took his own life, and that makes me even sadder still.
Sometimes I think that this world is too cold and unfriendly for sensitive, creative people. I know there are times where it feels like far too much for me; when I feel like I don’t want the things I’m supposed to want, that I’ve strayed from a clearly marked path off into the seeming chaos of the surrounding forest. Most of the time, I’m okay with that. But there’s another side to it: being this way means that I feel things deeply, and sometimes that’s very overwhelming. Like this morning, when I held back tears because I saw two raccoons along the side of the road that had been hit by cars. I had looked away as quickly as possible so as not to see the details of what had happened to them, but the fact that they had been violently killed made me so sad. It always does. So I can understand how others would feel this way. Would feel like going on for even one more day is an impossible task. I understand.
Five months ago, a dear friend of mine took his own life. This weekend I will be attending a celebration of his life, a life so incredibly worthy of celebrating. We will be remembering yet another creative, beautiful soul who for whatever reason felt that this world was just too much, or that he was not enough, or both. I will never know his motivation, I only know that I will never stop wishing that he could still be here. My feelings and emotions as I remember him mix and intertwine with how I feel about the loss of Chris Cornell. It seems wholly unfair that the people who make this world so much better and brighter are the ones who feel driven to leave it.
This life may be crazy and at times it’s damn hard, but it’s all we’ve got. Both Chris Cornell and my friend made my life so much better for touching it, and when it’s my turn to leave the world I hope I can do so knowing it’s better than it was before I got here.
 

If you follow me on Instagram, you already know that I cut my hair from a chin-length bob to a short pixie cut at the beginning of the year. With my wedding coming up, I wanted to have cute, fun hair, and I truly love rocking a pixie.
I’ve been alternating between pixie and bob cuts for the last few years, and I think it’s safe to say that long hair is NOT for me and I will not be sporting Rapunzel-esque locks anytime soon. Short hair is so stylish and flattering, and I love having a hairstyle I can play around and have fun with! Since my hair grows out quickly (I generally have to get trims every 4-6 weeks), I never feel limited from trying a new cut or color. If I don’t like it, my hair will grow out!
Since I’ve gotten a ton of questions about my hair since getting it cut, I thought it would be fun to write a FAQ post to answer them all in one spot. Please feel free to comment and add more questions, I’ll answer them in a future post!

-What’s your favorite part of having short hair?
Wearing my hair short makes me feel stylish and beautiful! It’s definitely a confidence-booster.
-Who cuts your hair?
Andrea at Ombu Salon in Edmonds. She is the BEST and I adore her!
-How often do you get your hair cut?
Generally, every 4-6 weeks I’ll need a trim. My look can literally go from stylish to furry practically overnight!
-How often do you wash your hair?
Every 2-3 days, depending on my workout schedule (I always have to wash it on cardio days, because I get crazy sweaty!)
-What are your favorite styling products?
I absolutely adore Ion Dry Texture Spray Wax, Oribe Superfine Hair Spray,  and Bed Head After Party (this protects my hair from heat styling)
-How do you style your hair?
It’s ever-evolving; currently, after washing my hair I run a very small amount of Bed Head After Party cream through my ends and spray the longer pieces of my hair with texturizing wax spray. I comb my hair forward while blow drying, since that’s the way I want the style to go. My bangs tend to get a little bit of a wave in them, so I’ll smooth them with a flatiron. Then I hairspray and go! On non-wash days, I freshen up my roots with a bit of dry shampoo and smooth any strange kinks or waves with my flatiron.
-Is your hair thick or fine?
It’s pretty fine
-How do you describe your cut to your stylist?
I don’t rely on descriptions, I take her LOTS of pictures so I know we’re on the same page! My current cut is Jennifer Lawrence inspired.

-Do you get bored with styling your hair the same way every day?
No way! It’s such a myth that short hair isn’t fun or versatile. I can style my hair lots of different ways and use fun hair accessories. Last weekend I had an appointment to practice my wedding-day hairstyle, and it was as gorgeous as any style we could have created with longer hair!

-Are there any downsides to a pixie cut?
Bad hair days are one…there are days when my hair is just not in the mood to do anything I want it to, and I definitely can’t just throw it in a ponytail! On those days, I usually end up pinning back my bangs with cute clips or just wearing a hat.
People’s comments can be a downside, too, although I really don’t care what other people think of my looks. The response I got after cutting my hair was overwhelmingly positive, but one coworker did make me cringe. She saw me in the hallway at the office and said, “You cut your hair!…Oh well, you can wear extensions for your wedding.” It makes me crazy that women still identify long hair with looking pretty! I would much rather rock my cute short cut on my wedding day than wear a head full of fake hair!
-What would you say to someone who is thinking about getting a pixie cut? 
Do it! Short hair really does look good on anyone; just find a stylist who is comfortable with the style you like and who will spend time with you discussing what you like and what you don’t, so they can give you a cut that looks great on you. Remember, hair does grow back, so take the plunge and give it a try!

Well, it’s finally here, kids…election day.
If you’re like me, the days leading up to this one were filled with anxiety. This is the fourth time I’ve voted in a presidential election – I’ve voted every single time I’ve been old enough to – and it’s the first time that I felt more dread than hope for the outcome. It’s a stark contrast to the pride and excitement I felt voting during the previous two elections.
Today is an absolutely gorgeous day in the Northwest. It’s sunny and over 70 degrees out, the kind of late fall day that is more rare around here than a unicorn. November in Seattle is typically gray, drizzly, and a little depressing. I basked in the beautiful weather today. I took walks with friends to soak up the sunshine. I listened to this song because I knew it would make my Northwest-loving soul happy. Truly, today is the kind of day that is far too nice for anything unpleasant to happen.
And so, I choose to believe that although it is election day, it is also far too nice a day for bad things to happen. I am choosing to believe that when the rain returns tomorrow, so will the calm contentment that I always feel when the drizzle returns to us after the sunshine, and that the anxiety I’ve felt this year will be gone for good. While 2016 has been a good year, it’s been filled with some very difficult things too, and I am so ready to move on to the lovely fresh start of 2017 (you know how I love a new beginning!). I am hopeful that the end of this election season will bring about relief from the anxiety we’ve all been feeling over it.  Because I know I’m not the only one who is just ready to take whatever happens and move forward.

The past year flew by so fast, I really can’t believe it’s already over and we’re about to ring in a new year. 2015 has been incredibly good to me. So many wonderful things have happened this year:
I got a new job. After nearly twelve years with the phone company, I accepted a position with the local power company. It’s turned out to be amazing, both because it’s the best job I’ve ever had, but also because I’ve gained great coworkers who have also become great friends. I love where I’m at and am so proud of how much I’ve learned and accomplished since I started my job there. I can’t wait to get even better in 2016!
Bill and I moved in together. We found a really great apartment in Edmonds, less than two miles from downtown and the waterfront. Thanks to Bill’s eye for decorating, our home is now cozy, beautiful, and inviting. I absolutely love living here, and it’s the first place that has really felt like home to me in the last couple of years. The kitties love it here too, especially when the weather is nice and they can spend their days lounging in the sun on our back patio!
I attended my second Lollapalooza in Chicago. I love everything about summers in Chicago. Bill and I ate way too much good food, saw a Cubs game at Wrigley Field, and of course enjoyed the music at Lollapalooza – including seeing Metallica, one of my all-time favorite bands.
Bill and I got engaged. On October 4th, on Ruby Beach, Bill asked me to marry him. He’s the love of my life and my best friend, and of course I said yes. When we got home, he got down on one knee and gave me a beautiful ring that he had bought for me and saved until he could find just the right moment to ask me to wear it forever. I never knew it was possible to be so in love with someone, to feel so right with another person. I cannot wait to marry him!
I got to spend the holidays with my family for the first time since moving to Washington. Normally I don’t make travel plans over the holidays, because crowds make me anxious and it’s expensive to fly during that time of year, but it was really important to me to be able to get back to California this Thanksgiving. It was great getting to have dinner with my family like old times. And while I was there, I went shopping with my mom, my sister, and a few of my closest friends, and I picked out my wedding dress! My parents are keeping it safe for me until it’s time for alterations. I went back to California a few weeks later to celebrate my mom’s birthday with her and participate in family Christmas festivities. My sister recently moved to San Diego, and my brother is planning his own move to Washington in 2016, so it was great to have everyone together under one roof before we all scatter to different places.
2015 had so many happy moments for me. It was also the year I experienced one of the hardest things I’ve ever dealt with, the passing of my wonderful friend Big Mike. We lost him very suddenly last May and it’s still very difficult to accept that I’ll never see his big smile, hear his loud booming laugh, or get wrapped up in one of his amazing hugs ever again. I still catch myself waiting for him to walk in the door at American Brewing, the brewery we all like to hang out at. But even though missing him makes me so incredibly sad, remembering him always brings a smile to my face. Mike was so kind, so generous and giving, and he loved people and animals and good food. He meant so much to so many people. 2016 just won’t be the same, because it won’t have Mike in it. But those of us who love him will continue to keep his memory alive, by talking about him and sharing our stories of great times with him, by grilling hot dogs at ABC to raise money for the food bank, by giving kindness and friendship to others the way that he gave it to us. I love you, Mike. You will be in my heart forever. Cheers, my wonderful friend.
And so, in just a few short hours we will close the door on 2015 and move forward with hopes that 2016 will be our best year yet.  For me, it’s going to be the year I plan my wedding (tentatively taking place in March 2017, stay tuned!). It is going to be the year that I enjoy my job, my community, my family, and my friends. And, as always, it is the year that I resolve to win the lottery….it’s bound to happen eventually, right?
Happy New Year, everyone! I hope 2016 brings you health, happiness, and success. Cheers to all my family and friends!
 
 

For some reason, this Christmas season has found me more nostalgic than I think I have ever been in my adult life. Since I normally have a hard time getting back to California for the holidays at all, I feel extremely lucky that this year I was able to make a trip down for Thanksgiving and another one last weekend to celebrate my mom’s birthday with her as well as join in on the family Christmas traditions of decorating my parents’ tree and making a ton of cookies (known in my family as Bakefest).
I have such great memories of holidays as a kid. I truly felt that from Thanksgiving through New Year’s, it truly was the very most wonderful time of the year. There was so much to celebrate.My parents loved my siblings and I so much and did so many wonderful things for us, all the time of course but especially at Christmas. Now I’m in my thirties and I have more beautiful memories than I could ever collect into a blog post, but I thought I would share a few that I was thinking about during my visit last weekend.
My mom’s birthday is exactly a week before Christmas, and it was very important to us that her day be special and were horrified at the mere thought of anyone lumping her birthday in with Christmas. We always picked out birthday gifts that were wrapped in birthday, NOT Christmas, wrapping paper. I remember when we were little, my mom would unwrap her presents, and then my little sister would be so excited that she would go to the Christmas tree to start giving Mom more gifts. “No, no, Melissa, the rest are for Christmas,” Dad would remind her gently, and then we would go into the dining room for birthday cake. One year, I picked out a tiny glass horse with a pink mane, convinced it was the most wonderful thing Mom would have ever received. Of course, Melissa may have beat me out with the Pooch Patrol poodle she gifted Mom that birthday (the link is for the 1990 commercial, which I am very grateful to the Internet for making available).
When I was growing up, we would typically decorate the Christmas tree after dinner on Thanksgiving. This year though, my parents held out so that I could be there to help. As we put the ornaments on the tree, I remembered doing it as a little girl. My parents would sit on the couch, each with a box of ornaments on their laps. One by one, they would  lift out the ornaments and hand them to my siblings and I, warning us to be very careful. Then we would carry them to the tree and search for just the right spot to hang them. When they got down to the last few boxes, they would hang some near the top of the tree, because we were small and couldn’t really reach all that high (I think our tree was probably beautifully decorated from the kneecap down and naked at the top!). Most of the ornaments my parents have are older than I am, and as I selected each one I admired it just as I did as a child.

If I wasn’t already feeling sufficiently nostalgic after birthday celebrations and tree decorating, Bakefest did me in. Mom dearly loves to bake and has passed down that love to my brother, sister, and I. Our kitchen when I was little had a great full-length counter that divided it from the dining room. My siblings and I would pull up chairs from the dining table and kneel on them (or, when we were really small, stand on them) and “help” Mom make cookies. In other words, we watched and then enthusiastically licked cookie dough off the spatula and the beaters off the mixer. Once the cookies were baked, she would spread them out in front of us and let us decorate them with frosting and sprinkles. Somewhere in an album there is a photo of a toddler-aged me, butter knife in hand, a look of intense concentration on my face as I spread icing onto a cookie. This year, Melissa and I rolled out and cut out the cookies, using the same cookie cutters Mom helped us place in the dough when we were little: Santas, snowmen, holly, a reindeer we all loved but whose antlers were practically impossible to cut out intact. And the gingerbread….Mom would always make gingerbread cookies for our classes, and made sure that all the boys got boy cookies and all the girls got girl cookies. As an adult I have no idea how she had the patience, as I most certainly do not (some of my gingerbread people didn’t make it onto the cooling racks without suffering the loss of an arm, a leg, or at times a head, leaving me no choice but to put a swift end to their suffering by stuffing them into my mouth). The only thing missing from this year’s Bakefest was Dad’s fudge, which he used to make every year in his special candy pot and smooth into glass Pyrex dishes. This year I think we were all frightfully close to lapsing into sugar comas, so he decided to wait.

My parents always made the holidays so special and fun for us. Of course there are traditions we just couldn’t get around to in the three days I was there, but I have such great memories of things we would do together. My dad and I loved sneaking off together for a day of Christmas shopping, and our venue of choice when I was a teenager was the Block in Orange (it’s called the Outlets at Orange now). We would grab lunch and then make our way through the mall, enjoying the crisp-but-not-cold Orange County weather while we shopped. One of the things we liked best was that there was a Hilo Hattie store and we could buy Hawaiian-scented lotions and Hawaiian coffee. And one year, he took me to the Dewey Weber surf store (I think it’s in San Clemente?). I loved it. It was a small shop, jam-packed with surfboards and surf wear, and he got me a black Dewey Weber hoodie that I still have and wear, despite it’s being rather beat up now.
I very fondly remember Christmas mornings. When I was little, we were up before the sun, waking Mom and Dad and urging them to come to the living room because “Santa came!”. Santa gifts in our house weren’t wrapped, they were put out next to the tree on Christmas Eve. Presents from family were wrapped in coded paper. Before we kids were old enough to read, Mom would choose a wrapping paper for each kid and all of our gifts would be in that particular paper. To dissuade us from poking and pinching the gifts to figure out what we were getting, she didn’t reveal which wrapping paper was ours until Christmas morning, when we found a swatch of it in the beautiful stockings she made for us when we were very small. Once we got older and could read, she changed the system slightly and assigned us each a code name (for example, one kid’s presents would be labeled ‘Elf’, another would be ‘Gingerbread’, etc). On Christmas morning, our code name would be on a little swatch of paper in our stockings. Even after we were teenagers and the urge to feel up the gifts had subsided, we were adamant that she continue with the tradition.
The year I was ten and catching on to the nonexistence of Santa Claus, I begged Santa for a bike, sure that my parents would never get me one (we didn’t really live in a place where kids could ride bikes, as we had no sidewalks or parks nearby). We lived in the desert, so my parents got us dirt bikes and stashed them at a neighbor’s house. On Christmas Eve, as was tradition, my mom made a ton of tacos and enchiladas for dinner, and then we piled into the car to drive through the neighborhood and look at Christmas lights. I’ve always loved that. I remember being bundled into my cozy winter coat, snuggled into the backseat staring out the window while Christmas music played on the stereo. We would “ooh” and “aah” at the cool light displays. I don’t know if Dad scoped out houses beforehand or how he pulled it off, but he always knew where to go to see the best lights. On the particular Christmas Eve when I was ten, the neighbors waited until we left, then sneaked our bikes into our house and set them up in the living room. When we got home, Santa had been there, and we were totally floored!
The Christmas I was twelve, we were living briefly in San Diego. I was very impressed with my own self-perceived maturity, and so even though I was just as excited as ever for Christmas morning, I pretended that I was far too grown up to lose sleep on Christmas Eve. That year, my brother and sister must have been overcompensating for my aloofness, because they got everyone up around, oh, about 2:30am. I feigned irritation at them, but secretly I was absolutely fine with getting up and beginning the Christmas morning festivities. That was also the Christmas that Real Talking Bubba came to live with us on Christmas Eve. I don’t remember who he was a gift for, but I do remember sitting in the living room of our rental house, all five of us laughing so hysterically that we were crying as we played with that bear.
While we lived in San Diego, we got our boxer puppy, Shotsie. Once we had Shotsie, we always got her a new doggie toy on Christmas. Her present would be wrapped and placed under the tree, just like all the rest, and once we finished opening presents she knew it was her turn. She would wag her little stump of a tail with excitement as we helped her pull the paper off her gift to reveal her new toy, which she would then spend the day chewing.
I’m not a religious person at all, and my fondness for the holiday season has nothing whatsoever to do with faith or Christianity. I love this time of year because it was so special in my household when I was growing up and because I want to keep my family’s traditions alive. At home in Washington, I bake cookies, and I decorate a Christmas tree every year. I don’t have a fireplace but my childhood stocking is hung in my living room all the same. The special ornament my parents bought me for my first Christmas is hanging on my tree. And when I get the chance, I fly home to California and my family and I pick up right where we left off.

So in short, last Thursday was such a bad day that I was ready to abandon my life and move to Aruba.
As I am generally a pretty happy person, and my days on the whole are good, I think I surprise those around me a little when I am in a genuinely bad mood. The day wasn’t bad in that anything catastrophic happened, but rather a lot of minor irritations had been building up and I finally hit a wall where it was all just too much.
I got through the day. Bill took me to Pizza Bank and fed me lasagna and garlic bread and let me vent out all of my frustrations in between bites. And by Friday I was in a much better mood. I had a good day at work, had lunch with a good friend I don’t get to see much, and felt a lot better. But the day before had drained me and I felt like I needed to do something to rejuvenate, to give myself a fresh perspective. This was on my mind as I ran into the drugstore after work for a couple of things, and as I hurried past the hair care section my eyes fell on the boxes of dye. Before I knew it, I had checked out, rushed back to my car, sped home, and locked myself in the bathroom with a box of Auburn Delight.

My change from blonde to dark red hair was impulsive, and I am absolutely in love with the results. I’ve had red hair before, so I had a rough idea of what I would be getting myself into, but I wasn’t expecting it to feel quite so drastically better. Although I’ve had a couple of people tell me that they liked my hair better when it was lighter, the majority of the feedback I’ve gotten has been good, and of course my own opinion (that my hair looks awesome) is the only one that really matters at the end of the day.

Anyone who has read my blog for any length of time knows that I change my hair a LOT, and I’m sure at some point I’ll get bored with it and do something new yet again. But for now, I feel great about my new hair color and look, and a darker hair color was a great way to shake off my winter blahs!

One of my favorite things about the business park that I work at is that it’s cut by a small tree-lined creek. A walking trail follows the creek, and each day my friend Tracy and I head outside to walk a mile loop around the creek, enjoying some fresh air and the various wildlife that lives in and around the creek. Most days, we see ducks and birds, and every now and then we’ll get lucky and see a crane or a beaver.
For the most part, I just take in the scenery, but every now and then I do stop and take some photos along my walks.

I love being able to get away from my desk, even for fifteen minutes, and the weather is rarely bad enough to deter me from heading out to the trail. Even on rainy days, Tracy and I can be found making our way long the path, warm coats on and hoods up to protect our heads. On nice days, we venture out no matter how warm or cold the sunny sky happens to be.
Yesterday was one of those rainy days, but it wasn’t really windy and so we decided to take our usual walk. My favorite days are ones when we see some form of wildlife, so I was beyond excited to see this little guy waddling across the trail:

At first, we thought he might be a beaver, but upon closer inspection he had a different tail than a beaver would have. I didn’t even know what he was, but I showed my photo to a coworker who informed me that he was a nutria. When he caught sight of us, he huddled down under some low trees, watching us and sniffing at the air. He must have decided that we posed no real threat, because after a few minutes he made his way back to the other side of the trail, walked down a slight slope, and settled himself in the grass to nibble on it. I was delighted and could have watched him all day, but eventually we continued along our way around the trail and back to work.
I love living in the Northwest and having nature literally right outside my door, both at work and at home. I feel so lucky to have this amazing trail so close to my office, and am grateful that I found Tracy and can share daily walks with her!

Thanksgiving is only a few days away, and I’m super excited! Even though I’m not much of a fan of the month of November, I dearly love Thanksgiving and the start of the holiday season. This year I’m going to be spending the holiday visiting my family in California, and it will be my first Thanksgiving with them since I moved to Washington in 2010.
I am so incredibly fortunate to have so much to be thankful for this season: a wonderful family and friends, and a loving fiancee and sweet kitties that live with me in our warm, comfortable home. I have plenty of food to eat, a great job, a warm bed to rest in at night. The list goes on and on, and I could easily write an entire blog post just listing out things that I am grateful for. But just as I am so very thankful for all that I have, I am also very aware that there are so many around me that do not have even the most basic of things, no roof over their heads or warm clothes to wear or a safe place to sleep. It seems so unbalanced to me, that I have so much while others struggle to get by with so little, and so I try to do my part to help out those less fortunate than me. I wanted to take some time today to share a few of my favorite charities, and I hope that this will inspire those around me to find a way to help out those in need. I’ve included links to each organization’s website for anyone who would like more information or to donate.
Kiva
To me, Kiva is a gift that keeps on giving. It isn’t really so much a charity as it is a system of loaning money to people who are trying to better their communities but may not have access to traditional bank loans. Kiva is a non-profit organization that connects lenders and borrowers. To get started, decide on an amount to loan (my first one was $25, which was all I could afford at the time). Then review the different men and women who are seeking funds to improve their businesses and communities. There are a wide range of areas to choose from (for example, I lent money to a man who was saving up for a water filtration system to provide clean drinking water to students in Uganda). Find the perfect cause, lend out the money, receive repayment, and start all over! Over the years I have been repaid my money several times, then turned around and found new people and projects to loan to.
ASPCA
The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) was the first humane society in North America, and today it is one of the largest. They are a non-profit organization fighting animal cruelty throughout the US, with their mission being the protection, placement, and rescue of animals in need. While I would happily adopt every homeless animal if I could, unfortunately I don’t have the resources. Between donating monthly to the ASPCA and pampering my own three adopted cats, I am trying to do my part to help animals.
Cocoon House
In addition to larger national organizations, I also believe it is really important to offer local support as well. Cocoon House is a local non profit that strives to end youth homelessness in Snohomish County. It was started as a small emergency shelter but has grown into a nationally recognized program that offers a variety of programs to help at-risk youth and their families and to combat the problem of teen homelessness. It’s hard to imagine that there are kids right now with nowhere to go tonight, but over 34% of the homeless population is under the age of 24.
Snohomish County Food Bank
On Thanksgiving Day, most of us will probably eat far too much and then slink off to bed to sleep off the turkey hangover. But there are far too many people who are anything but full on any given day, and to help those people locally we have the Snohomish County Food Bank. This non-profit organization provides beneficiaries with food and social services every week. Those wishing to donate food can find drop-off locations on the organization’s website, and monetary donations are taken right online. Want to help but have a tight budget? The Food Bank is also accepting volunteers for a variety of schedules and jobs.
 
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

When I left my telecom job earlier this year, I also left behind its on-site gym with the kindly trainer Curt and his challenging but fun lunchtime classes. Once I started my new job, I joined a gym close to my new office with the intention of working out consistently. I started off strong and was really getting a solid bang for my buck. But over the summer, I started slacking and not going, and when I would work out I would just do a quick video at home or go to my beloved Zumba class. As so many people do, I became less of a patron and more of a donor of membership fees as I went to the gym less and less. It did bother me that I was wasting fifty bucks a month, and I tried to rally and start going back, but I only really found one class that I liked and I lack all motivation to work out by myself. If a flash of motivation arises, I do have a small gym at my office and one at my apartment complex. And so today, I decided to throw in the towel, admit defeat, and cancel my membership.
I went over to the gym on my lunch hour, thinking that I would be in and out and back to work in no time. At the check-in desk, I let the receptionist know what I wanted to do. His face immediately sank. “You want to cancel? No!” he exclaimed, clearly heartbroken. I remained resolute. I had been warned of this when I watched the episode of Friends, The One with the Ballroom Dancing, in which Ross goes with Chandler to help him cancel his gym membership but instead finds himself talked into joining the gym as well. I knew that there would be resistance, pressure, bargaining. After explaining to the traumatized receptionist that I simply did not use my membership, he told me that a manager would have to assist me with my request and motioned me to sit and wait on a Bench of Shame in the lobby that was reserved for quitters.
I sat down, and within a minute a friendly guy named Kevin came over to ask how he could help me. Once he realized I was there to cancel a membership and not start one, he backed away as if I had the plague, muttering that Frank the Manager would have to help me as he scampered quickly away.
Undeterred, I sat on the Bench of Shame for a few more minutes before Frank the Manager appeared and asked how he could help. After I explained (again) that I wanted to cancel my membership, he led me to his office and shut the door. I had a feeling that this was very similar to what happens when they pull you aside to tell you that they have decided to take Great Aunt Irene off of life support. He sat somberly at his desk and said, “So, you just want to cancel today,”  and I affirmed that, yes, I wished to cancel. Apparently fourth time’s a charm, because  he seemed to comprehend my request. He pulled up my account and said wistfully, “Oh, but you have such a good rate too.”
Kill me now.
I am not falling for your crap, Frank, I thought, while smiling and remaining firm that yes, I wanted to cancel my membership with my great rate. I explained that I simply didn’t use the gym, that I did not anticipate it changing, and that I had thought this through and wasn’t going to change my mind. He asked me if I had any friends who came to the gym with me and I said no. He nodded, empathizing that it is a lot harder to come to the gym without friends. “Oh, poor you, you have no friends” was what I’m pretty sure he was thinking. Then he switched tactics, asking me what my fitness goals originally were.
I was not going to be lured into a conversation about my longtime struggle of desiring washboard abs versus desiring cheeseburgers. “Just to maintain my health,” I replied quickly. “And I still take Zumba twice a week in Marysville with friends.”
I think this hurt ol’ Frank the Manager just a bit. “Why not come to our Zumba classes?” he asked.
Now, if you’ve never actually taken Zumba with Nancy McFadden, the answer to this question is impossible to understand. Nancy’s class is just…different. Less twirly-dance-y, more fitness-oriented. Plus, friends that I’ve had for years go there, and it is literally the only time I see them. “I just prefer to take the class my friends go to, it’s the only time we spend together,” I answered simply, trying to shut the door on this line of questioning.
“Well, how about we get your friends some two week passes so they can try the gym here?” Frank the Manager rebutted.
“All my friends have other gym memberships” I retorted. No idea if that’s true. Seems implausible, actually. But still.
At this point, I think Frank knew he was losing me and that he was going to have to double down if he was going to get anywhere. “What about your boyfriend or husband, could he come with you and motivate you?” he asked.
That had actually been the plan in the beginning, and it was working just fine until I got bored with it. Outside of Zumba, I’m fickle with my fitness. “My fiancee has a membership here, but I still want to cancel,” I said.
I did not realize it, but I fell directly into Frank’s trap. “Fiancee? I just got engaged too! On Tuesday!” he said, lighting up. Momentarily, I was genuinely happy for the guy, but that initial good-for-you vibe was quickly replaced with the realization that he had tricked me. Now he’d found common ground, now we could “bond”. We were going to be besties now, Frank the Manager and I.
He proceeded to tell me his engagement story, complete with a scroll of his Instagram photos of the Big Event, and I nodded politely while silently cursing him for wasting my lunch break when I really wanted to run over to Starbucks and get a green tea on my way back to work. I now know that he asked his girlfriend to dress up nicely before she went to work because he wanted to take her out to dinner that night, only to have a limo fetch her and bring her to a private tour of a local winery before having her presented with a heart-shaped cake with “Will You Marry Me?” written on it. As he wrapped up the story, he let out a chuckle and said, “Listen to me, telling you all about my life,” as he shook his head conspiratorily. Then for good measure he flashed me a photo of his small son wearing a dinosaur Halloween costume.
I said all the right things, the “oh how sweet”s and the “oh how cute”s. I still wanted a green tea though, damn it, and I did not want to encourage the fostering of this new BFFhood. So I did not offer up any tidbits of my own life. Frank the Manager finally cleared his throat and got back to business. “Now, it just sounds like you’re struggling to find your motivation right now. What we can do, is just put your membership on hold for free for a few months,” he offered, looking at me confidently. It seemed to him that we were not the same people that we were when we entered the room. We had bonded. We had shared things. Clearly I would agree to his offer. It made so much sense! Just put the membership on hold to give myself time to find my motivation, to find myself.
“That’s okay, let’s just cancel it,” I persisted.
I had clearly crushed Frank the Manger. He had put his faith and trust in me and I had let him down. He dutifully clicked a single button and I heard my email ping before he could even explain that I would have an email confirmation of my cancellation waiting for me, and that I was paid up through December 10th so I could feel free to use the gym until then. “Would you like a printed copy of your cancellation?” he asked me, gaze down, not meeting my eyes. I declined, and he ushered me out of his office and his heart.

As a music lover, I’m incredibly fortunate to live in the Seattle area. Great bands play local shows at cool, smaller venues, and I can enjoy a lot of music just a few miles from my house. Thanks to Bill, who introduced me to smaller shows, I’ve developed something of an addiction and am always on the lookout for fun bands to go and see. Some months, I’ll catch one or two shows, and then there are months like this October that have so many great shows that I’ll be attending at least one a week. Here are my top recommendations for fun shows and venues this month.
Jr. Jr. (formerly Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr.) at Neumos – Oct. 6th
Yes, this one is slightly short-notice, but trust me, it’s worth rearranging your plans. Neumos in Seattle is one of my favorite places to catch a show. Originally Moe’s Mo’Roc’N Cafe, it opened in 1994 and then reopened as Neumos in 2003 (the name ‘Neumos’ is pronounced “New Moes”….get it?). The band, Jr. Jr., recently underwent a name change from Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. They’re best described as an indie band from Detroit and they’re always a fun band to watch. I saw them once before at Neumos and am psyched to go back again. The crowd may get a little unruly (which is funny to me since the band’s songs are on the mellow, upbeat side of things) but it’s definitely a good time.
Chvrches at the Paramount Theatre – Oct. 14th
I’m actually a little surprised that there are still tickets available for this show, since last year when Chrvrches played Seattle they sold out (so if you want to go, get your tickets fast!). I love going to see shows at the Paramount Theatre. It opened in 1928 and was called the Seattle Theatre. Originally a movie house, the Paramount has evolved into a performance hall that hosts a variety of great shows. I’ve seen everything there from concerts to Broadway shows, and it never disappoints. The architecture alone is worth a visit, but to see Scottish-originating electronic band Chvrches is . I first saw them at Lollapalooza in Chicago last year, and was super bummed when I went to get tickets to their following Seattle show only to find that they were sold out. Not only is lead singer Lauren Mayberry’s voice amazing, but the band has an awesome stage presence and their live performances are far better than a recording could ever truly capture.
DIIV at Neumos – Oct. 19th 
DIIV is an indie rock band with a very shoegaze-esque vibe from New York. It started out as former Beach Fossils’ drummerZachary Cole Smith’s side project (the band name is pronounced ‘Dive’ and was named after a Nirvana song). I was fortunate enough to see them earlier this year at the Capitol Hill Block Party and now I’m beyond psyched to enjoy their music live again. Go to this show prepared to be transfixed by bassist Devin Ruben Perez, because to say he is amazing is a major understatement. Their new single, Dopamine, is so good that I admit I’ve set it on repeat in my car because I can’t get enough of it.
Small Black at the Crocodile – 10/28
From reading this post, you might gather than I enjoy indie rock bands from New York, and you would be right about that. Small Black is another one, and their album No Stranger (released in 2013) was one of my favorites for that entire year. Now they’re back out playing shows to promote their new album, Best Blues, and will be at the Crocodile in Belltown. The Crocodile originally opened in 1991 and hosted shows to some amazing bands, including Nirvana and Pearl Jam. The venue closed in 2007, but luckily was renovated and reopened in 2009. You can show up early and grab a delicious woodfired pizza for dinner at the Back Bar before enjoying the show.